


Gladiators

by Melodious329



Category: Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:33:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melodious329/pseuds/Melodious329
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm filling my own prompt from LJ's Avengerkink comm:  "Steve and Thor are captured by aliens and kept as gladiators. Thor is sent out first and he manages to beat the other. He watches Steve be sent out with trepidation and pride that Steve can handle himself. </p><p>But Steve won't fight. The other gladiator is just a prisoner from some faraway world just like him. So he tries to avoid the blows he can and simply takes the ones he can't avoid. The alien masters are understandably upset that Steve is ruining their fun and try to make Steve fight. </p><p>Thor realizes that he loves Steve and tries to keep Steve alive until they can be rescued. I'd love to see stolen moments between fights, Thor tending to Steve's injuries, letting Steve sleep on him instead of the hard ground, and first time stolen kisses/gropes. </p><p>And then they get rescued and have desperate sex :)"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gladiators

Steve and Thor are once again fighting beside on another, using their strength to hold back the hordes of armored aliens from the streets of New York. They’re giving Tony and Natasha time to shut down some mechanized robot while Hawkeye gives support and information from above and Hulk…hulks. 

Tony’s voice comes through Steve’s earpiece, “Hey, yeah, I think…I’ve got it.” Tony sounds characteristically flippant, but his voice is hard to hear, the connection breaking though it never has before. 

Steve punches the next alien in the metal facemask while maneuvering around Thor with one hand pressed to his ear in an attempt to hear better. 

“But it’s not *SNAP*…it’s a…*crackle*…decoy,” he hears right before the bottom drops out of the world. Both Avengers are suddenly dragged through space, colors whizzing by like some kaleidoscope much like the Asgardian bifrost. 

They’re waiting for them on the other side. Disoriented, Steve immediately sinks to his knees, his eyes rolling back in his head. Thor manages a shout just before chains wrap around his neck, then around his wrists as he’s reaching for this throat. He’s easily yanked off his feet despite his vigorous struggles, the chains unbreakable despite his strength

Steve is easily ensnared, forced prone on the dusty ground before he manages to resist. Eventually, they give up struggling to focus on their captors. They lay on their stomachs, two superhuman Avengers trussed up like captured animals, blue eyes peering up through the dust in confusion and aggravation.

Their captors look like men, mostly. They’re tall and broad, their skin grayish and smooth almost like plastic with no hair to mar the view of their muscular figures clad only in loincloths. 

“Release us,” Thor orders them with deadly force despite his hair in his face. “Who is it who dares…”

Thor trails off as another alien steps forward, a being so surprisingly frail that both captives are struck silent. It looks like a little old man, only about five feet tall with shriveled skin and a head just a little too large for the small body. 

Steve’s eyebrows pull together in bewilderment when the small alien claps his hands to draw their attention. 

“Wonderful,” the little alien says, sounding like an old man, out of breath with excitement. “These two will make wonderful competitors in the games, don’t you think?”

He pauses as if waiting for an answer but the great grey aliens stay silent and impassive, waiting simply for orders from this tiny man. Their eyes don’t even flick over to the shorter being.

The little alien scoffs at the nonresponse and claps his hands again. “Take them to holding and don’t forget to take their armor. Perhaps they can enter today.”

“Wait!” Steve yells as the alien begins to walk away. “What are these games? What do you want with us?” he asks, wanting information. 

“You’ll see,” the alien replies happily, leaving Steve and Thor to be dragged away into some kind of huge crate with a solid wooden bottom and ceiling but slatted wooden sides. 

As soon as they’re dragged inside, their chains are drawn to the sides of the container, plastering them immobile to the wall. They’re held helpless as the grey-skinned aliens approach, still mute. 

They approach Thor first, cutting the ties of Thor’s hauberk as the Asgardian growls in anger. They drag the chain mail shirt off of him as well. Thor’s leather pants are left intact, apparently not considered armor after grey hands paw over them. His chest gleams with sweat, clean of the dust and dirt that covers his face. 

Then they advance on Steve. One pushes Steve’s cowl off his forehead and fingers the material that was specially made by SHIELD. They decide to cut the entire uniform off of the supersoldier along the vulnerable seam and stripping him of his utility belt. That leaves him in only the red briefs that SHIELD also gave him and a red blush. 

Throwing rough clothes at the two captives, the aliens finally exit the crate. The gate slowly closes behind them and immediately the metal chains release the two Avengers, slipping out through the slats. 

Steve keeps his eyes averted and immediately falls on the pile of clothes on, pulling on a rough spun tunic and a loose belt. But he doesn’t move fast enough to avoid the Asgardian looking with hooded eyes. It’s not unusual. Since Thor returned from Asgard, there’ve been many long looks when the other isn’t watching, many intimate smiles, and long conversations when the rest of the Avengers were busy with their lives. 

Thor watches until the pale skin is covered then turns away to start pounding on the wooden slates of the gate. If it really were made of just wood as they appear, then it would certainly break apart in his onslaught. 

“Thor!” Steve shouts to get his teammates’s attention. “I believe we are not the first alien captives they’ve had.”

Thor stops pounding, resting his arms against the slats in frustration, making no move to pull on his own shirt. Steve’s eyes follow the minute shifting of the muscles in his teammate’s back. He’s so distracted that when the crate suddenly lurches into motion, his head hits the wall hard. Thor falls back too, just managing to stay upright by grabbing onto the slats in the wall. 

Focused again, Steve swivels quickly, looking out to try to keep track of where they’re going. The landscape is monotonous though, flat and dry and dusty for as far as his eyes can see. Until there’s a speck in the distance turns into a dark round building rising before them. Their speed slows and they begin to descend, their crate tiny against the size of the building. It actually enters the building, fitting into the building’s ground level like a key fits in a lock. 

With a loud thud, the crate lands on the ground, dust coming up in a cloud around them. Both Avengers stand up cautiously, waving their hands to clear the air and then realizing that their crate is just one of many, all full of aliens of all shapes, sizes, and colors. All of the crates are lined up in a semi-circle around an inner area seen through the wooden slats. A roar of noise greets them, the aliens speaking to each other in many different languages. 

Steve looks around curiously but Thor speaks the Allspeak. He asks a large blueish, whale-like alien what the games are. 

“What did he say?” Steve asks as soon as the whale stops making noise, stepping closer to Thor. 

Thor turns back around suddenly, putting them suddenly so close together their noses almost touch. Thor appears not to notice their uncomfortable closeness, but Steve’s eyes flicker to Thor’s mouth before he takes a quick step back with a blush. But Thor’s next words drain the color from his face. 

“That it is a fight…to the death,” Thor explains, a considering expression on his face. 

“All of them are prisoners?” Steve asks in a breathless voice. 

Thor doesn’t get a chance to respond. Suddenly the chains snake back in the walls of the crate, but its only Steve who is slammed into the wall with a thud. Thor starts forward to help, but he stops when the grate is lifted showing the inside of the dusty arena in a clear invitation. 

There’s an even louder roar of noise from the other captives now that the opponents have been chosen. Thor looks to the arena and then back toward his teammate, smiling arrogantly in reassurance. But Steve no longer looks scared. Instead his jaw is set and his blue eyes burn with determination. He nods to Thor, one soldier to another, and Thor’s smile becomes wide and genuine even as he steps into the arena still shirtless. 

The arena is huge, the ground hard rock overlaid with sand. The walls are high, extending up from the slatted gates of the crates on the bottom. They’re higher than even Thor can jump without Mjolnir. And above them are stadium seats filled with observers who are cheering and screaming, excited for the carnage. The observers seem more akin to the little old man who gave the orders earlier than the large grey aliens. But the grey ones stand sentry along the wall keeping the combatants inside. 

Steve is released as soon as the gate clanks down again and he stumbles into a run, throwing himself at the slatted wall to watch. He’s practically glued to the gate as one of the grey aliens above throws down a sword to each combatant. Thor bends down slowly to retrieve the weapon, the sun glinting off of his sweaty back. His eyes stay on his opponent, a huge furry alien with an almost doglike face. 

But size isn’t everything. His opponent is obviously untrained and advances clumsily, swinging the sword over and over again seemingly with more enthusiasm than purpose. Thor barely has to duck out of the way, their swords clanging against one another. 

For a while, Thor only defends himself, block each blow. Until, in a flurry of movement, Thor knocks down his opponent’s sword and turns to elbow the other alien in the face. But he refuses the kill, leaving the alien there unconscious. It’s not enough, though. The crowd is still screaming as Thor walks away, finished with the game. The loser is not allowed to simply go back to his crate. It’s up to the grey alien sentries to shoot the unconscious alien in the neck. 

Thor bows his head at the outcome but seems entirely unsurprised. The gate lifts and he walks back into the holding crate, but this time, he’s in a fully occupied crate. Most of the aliens give him a measuring look as he walks in, but he ignores them as his eyes search for the Captain. There are a few other aliens at the gate, watching the matches, and Thor stands among them.

He has to watch through the slats as now it’s Steve’s turn to enter the arena, his bare legs sticking vulnerably out beneath his tunic. He faces a scaled alien with a long snout. But when the sword drops, Steve doesn’t pick it up. He doesn’t even look at it. Thor starts shouting even as Steve walks past where the sword lays in the sand. 

“Captain!” Thor shouts with authority. But still Steve won’t look back. “Captain, what…?”

But his yell halts abruptly when Steve’s opponent charges with his sword held high. Thor is helpless, clinging to the wooden slats as Steve dodges the sword’s swings by backing up but is soon forced to duck and roll across the sand to put more distance between them. 

It’s obvious that Steve has no intention in fighting. He continues trying to evade, perhaps attempting to exhaust his opponent. But even the supersoldier can’t avoid every single slash of the sword. The crowd, however, is thrilled with Steve’s acrobatics, standing up and cheering at the backflip Steve does even while the sword slashes his arm through the borrowed tunic. Steve is pulling out every trick he’s learned from Natasha and SHIELD staff. 

Soon the reptilian alien is tripping, falling down in exhaustion until the time he doesn’t get up. He stays on his knees, actually leaning on the sword for support. Steve still doesn’t attack but stands a ways off, catching his own breath. The crowd is still yelling, wanting more, but the reptilian alien nonetheless doesn’t get up. 

And then all at the same time the grey aliens draw their bows and hold them, as if waiting for the directive to execute them both as losers. Thor’s yells are drowned out by the crowd of spectators, and he’s jostled as the other gladiators in his crate all crowd at the gate to see, all waiting for the verdict. 

It’s over in an instant. The bows are suddenly lowered. The danger passed. Thor seems to just deflate, his tense posture suddenly gone. The crowd continues to roar as it has since the match began. Then Thor belatedly looks up, blue eyes searching the crowd to find the person in charge, perhaps the old man from before. He only gets a minute though, as then the chains are snaking into the crate again, winding themselves around his body, pulling him back to the crate’s walls as the gate opens. 

Steve seems suddenly exhausted as he enters the crate, his eyes seeking out his teammate. His lips turn up in the tiniest of smiles as he approaches the bound Asgardian. 

Thor is released suddenly before Steve reaches him. He stumbles at suddenly being dropped, but it doesn’t even slow him from reprimanding Steve. “Captain,” Thor starts in a gravely force, “What…?”

Steve waves him off, instead, asking, “Water?”

Thor points to a large cask with a communal cup. He waits impatiently for Steve to drink, the muscles in his jaw working in frustration. All of the other aliens are sitting, glancing at the two newest arrivals that have already caused such a commotion. Thor glares at them momentarily before deciding to sit. The wall where he was chained seems to be their place and there’s just enough room for the Captain as well. 

“Why would you not fight?” Thor asks again as soon as they’re seated. 

Steve closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath. “Because they’re all captives here, just like us,” he answers frankly. “They don’t deserve to die so that I can live.”

“But it is a battle,” Thor insists. 

“For what?” Steve says, tiredly as he leans his head back against the wall. “It is a battle for nothing, by slaves. What does it accomplish?”

“You are the leader of the Avengers. If you were to fall…” Thor keeps arguing. 

“You all will be fine,” Steve cuts him off with a small smile. “Most of you don’t listen to me anyway. Besides you don’t need a leader who…who doesn’t stand up for his convictions, anyway,” he finishes more seriously. 

Thor frowns but he doesn’t argue further. Leaning his own head back against the wall, he seems frustrated, turning over the information in his mind. Steve watches the Asguardian from the corner of his eyes, his gaze soft and smitten. 

His gaze lingers on Thor’s face before he speaks again. “Hey, the team’s probably on their way here now. They’ll rescue us,” he consoles. 

Thor lifts his chin and meets Steve’s eyes but doesn’t respond. Words for a moment aren’t necessary. They consider each other for a long moment. For that moment, neither hides their interest. They look at each other with eyes open and honest, gazing at one another as if seeing something new in an old friend. 

Unfortunately, the moment is interrupted by a great rattle of metal chains and the roar that goes up in their crate. Thor is pinned to the wall again, chains wrapped around his limbs, his naked torso, his throat. But Steve isn’t pinned beside him. 

The chains are dragging the supersoldier away from Thor, toward the back gate that suddenly starts creaking upward. Nothing is visible beyond the gate but blackness and a single grey-skinned guard. 

Dragged out by his feet, Steve struggles, his tunic riding up his thighs, but he doesn’t cry out, simply disappears into the darkness.

****

It’s a couple of hours later when Steve is pushed back into the crate with them, his re-entry much less dramatic without the chains. Steve looks definitely worse for wear. There’s a slowly bleeding cut on his left eyebrow and he clutches his side as he staggers after being shoved inside. 

There’s sudden silence in the crate and every eye in the room is on Steve as he catches himself from falling, straightening up as he continues over to where Thor sits, finally having put on the tunic. Putting a hand out to the wall, Steve slides down to gratefully sit as well. But Thor gets up immediately to get a cup of water to hand to the Captain. As he hands over the cup, his eyes linger on Steve’s body. There are long cuts on Steve’s back, slices through the tunic’s material. He doesn’t have long to look as Steve drains the water immediately. Thor switches the empty cup in Steve’s hands with a bowl of gruel. 

The bowl Steve only stares at blankly. 

“They brought food while you were gone,” Thor explains. 

“Did you eat?” Steve asks, blinking up at him like his eyes are getting used to the artificial light. 

“You need it more than I,” Thor says diffidently, putting the communal cup back at the cask. 

Steve hesitates only a second longer before eating. Captain America is only superhuman and is still bound by the limits of the human body. At the sight, Thor lets out a loud exhale and sits down again, rubbing a dirty hand down his dirty face. He seems intent on ignoring the attention on them until slowly conversation in the crate restarts.

The food portion is small and it’s gone in only a few moments. Without a trace of disappointment, Steve sets the bowl aside and attempts to settle against the wall. It has him cringing in pain, though, unable to find a position that doesn’t put pressure on the cuts on his back. 

Thor reacts immediately, arms curling around the injured man, implacable as he pulls Steve towards him. He arranges them so Steve is resting on his side against Thor’s now tunic clad chest, Thor’s arm resting low on Steve’s back away from the cuts. 

Despite Thor’s good intentions, Steve is tense at first. But when Thor makes no other move, he slowly relaxes, resting his head on Thor’s shoulder. He looks very young as he curls around Thor’s slightly larger frame. Fine blonde hair falls onto Steve’s pale sweaty forehead. 

The other captives also settle down as the lights are lowered, a not so subtle suggestion that it’s time for sleep. Thor turns his face towards the young Midgardian as he closes his eyes. 

The next morning, Thor wakes first at the bustle of activity around them. Steve sleeps on, his head having slipped a little to land on Thor’s chest. The cut on Steve’s eyebrow has disappeared leaving only a trail of dried blood. Thor shifts fractionally, but stills with raised eyebrows. Steve’s hand has found its way under Thor’s rough tunic, fingertips touching the Asgardian’s belly like a talisman. 

Thor runs a slow hand through Steve’s soft hair. His large hand lingers on the back of Steve’s neck as the Midgardian slowly stirs. Steve lifts his head, their faces suddenly close together. Blinking sleep heavy eyelids, Steve stares for a moment as if entranced by Thor’s lush lips almost hidden in his blonde beard. Thor is staring too, looking down at the dark softness of Steve’s lashes against his cheeks, only the barest of blonde shadows on his cheeks. 

Steve licks his lips and Thor’s hand tightens on his neck in response. But even as Thor pulls him in, Steve seems to come to his senses. He turns his face to the side, blushing as his eyes roam over all the other aliens before he slowly pulls away. 

There’s a line for the drinking water which both Avengers are waiting in when the grey-skinned guards deliver more food. The others around them have separated themselves into groups of comrades. They eat together and check each others’ half-healed injuries. They warm up, stretch and box with each other. They’re preparing for the days’ games. 

Steve shakes his head but he and Thor begin stretching as well. Thor watches intently as Steve touches his healed back, stretches the still pink skin. 

Thor catches Steve’s eyes and says, “When I am attacked, I will fight,” as if simply continuing their earlier conversation. 

Steve nods, “I know,” without a hint of judgment. 

“But you will not,” Thor says. 

Though it’s not really a question, Steve answers. “I will not,” he says resigned but certain. 

The first match starts suddenly. All the captives suddenly yanked off their feet and slammed into the wall with disembodied chains, all but one. The one alien left out looks around and then slowly makes his way to the opening gate. Not all of the captives watch the first fight. Some continue to prepare themselves instead. But Steve and Thor both stand silent witnesses with their arms crossed over their broad chests. 

After the fights begin, there are injured fighters coming back into the crate taking their attention away from the arena. Neither Avenger has formal training as a field medic, but both have passable knowledge. Not every alien wants or needs their help, but they do what they can. They all just do what they can and what they have to. 

Some matches are long and some are short, all are bloody. Still, it seems to come as a surprise when it’s Thor who’s left out of the chains. Steve watches avidly from behind the wooden bars, eyes wide and teeth gritted. Having seen Thor in action, the Asgardian has been given a more formidable partner. The alien is large with white fur covering his whole body and curling horns on each side of his head.

They circle each other, both experienced enough not to simply rush in. Then Thor feints, drawing the white alien into a fight. Once again, Thor sticks mostly to the defensive. This alien is stronger and the clang of their swords is loud and harsh in the arena. When the horned alien strikes low, Thor doesn’t totally block, taking a slice to his flank and in return slamming the butt of his sword into his opponent’s face. It doesn’t put this alien down, but is definitely disorienting. 

The horned alien, isn’t finished. He continues swinging his sword to protect himself as he recovers. But it’s easy now for Thor to bat the alien’s sword away and get into another punch. Thor takes another slice to his forearm, but this time he gets his foot up between them. With all his strength, Thor boots the alien away. The other alien hits the wall of the arena hard, rammed skull slamming back and the sword flying away. Disoriented, he still scrambles to his knees, desperately looking for his sword though Thor does not approach him. 

The fallen gladiator becomes increasingly desperate as he fumbles even as it becomes clear that he cannot get up and fight again. And then an arrow hits him, blowing through the back of his neck. Other arrows pierce him in the back until he lies still. 

Thor roars in anger and throws his sword at one of the sentries above. But the sky suddenly becomes solid, shimmering like plastic right before the sword hits it and falls uselessly back down. This world seems so simple with such lowly technology but at every turn it is unexpectedly advanced. 

Fuming, Thor is reluctant to leave the arena but finally re-enters the crate. He heads toward Steve immediately but doesn’t speak or look at the other Avenger.  
Leaning on one hand against the wall, he lets his head fall forward looking forlorn. Steve moves as soon as he’s freed, goes to get water from the cask, a torn strip of his tunic already in his hand to bind Thor’s wound. But Thor is too riled up to allow any wound to be seen to. He takes the water and turns to lean his back against the crate. 

Steve tries again, “Let me wrap your wound.”

“It’s nothing,” Thor says, waving Steve away with a hand. 

“You’re not actually indestructible, you know?” Steve says with some annoyance. But as soon as the words come, he seems to deflate, robbed of a purpose. 

“Thor,” Steve starts again, seemingly with difficulty, “I mean, if-if something happens…”

They both look very old then, perhaps thinking back on opportunities lost and words unsaid. Perhaps they’re both thinking of the times, just like this when the attraction between them was palpable, full of a camaraderie born not just out of both being out of time and space but shared experiences of leadership and battle and loss. 

Thor’s hand is gentle on the side of Steve’s cheek, giving the much younger man plenty of time to turn away. But Steve just licks his lips nervously before leaning forward, his eyelashes fluttering closed. The kiss seems soft, now is not the time for passion, but Thor invades Steve’s mouth, pressuring him to open wider, pressing deeper, deeper than any kiss Steve’s ever had. 

And short. Thor pulls away, laying a last gentle kiss on Steve’s pillowy lips. Thor’s lips curl up into a possessive and indulgent smile when Steve’s eyes stay closed a long moment afterwards. Finally, Steve’s eyelashes flutter like thick moths on his red cheeks. 

The other gladiators around them are staring now, awkward and uncomfortable at the display of affection in this hellhole. The two misplaced Avengers can’t see anything outside of the two of them until…Thor is suddenly pulled away, dragged by chains up the wall. 

Steve is left still kneeling on the ground, stunned by the sudden change in circumstance. All of the joy slowly drains out of the captain’s face to be replaced with his hard-jawed look of determination. He doesn’t look at Thor as he stands and heads out of the crate. 

Refusing the weapon once again, Steve faces a very different enemy, this one is fast, huge eyes like a bug and with long limbs to catch him, force him to fight. This one has endurance. 

The fight begins and again, Steve’s acrobatics set the crowd to roaring in delight. Even the other gladiators have come to the gates to watch, wondering perhaps if Steve will win again, wondering if the grey aliens will suddenly draw their bows to put Steve down, wondering if the crowd’s love has made Steve too popular to kill. 

The fight is harder, the opponent’s sword grazes Steve a few times, and then outright cuts Steve as the opponent becomes more familiar with Steve’s tricks. Steve just barely dodges a sword strike to his head, but then an arrow hits the captain in the back of the thigh. Steve falls but manages to roll before the sword comes down on him. 

The crowd makes nervous noises. The arrow didn’t kill Steve outfight but the intent is the same, to take down the Avenger. But despite the injury, Steve jumps to his feet and starts running while his opponent ends up in the dirt, overbalancing when he puts too much of his weight into the swing. Blood runs down Steve’s thigh, but he pulls the arrow out while his opponent is picking himself up. 

Now the opponent’s confidence is his downfall. With Steve injured and bleeding, he begins putting all of his weight behind every stroke, wearing out his strength and giving Steve more time to move out of the way. 

At least until another arrow goes through his calf and Steve pivots into the sword. It bites deep into Steve’s shoulder. Steve continues spinning away and his opponent actually loses his grip on the sword. Steve comes away with the sword still in the meat of his upper back and an arrow through his calf. The crowd roars when Steve reaches back, ripping the sword out. He throws it clear across the arena to lodge in the wood on the other side. 

His opponent is enraged. Instead of running to the sword, he attacks Steve with his fists. But barehanded, Steve is much superior. With training, the supersoldier is even faster than Natasha and just as flexible, and he dodges and blocks each blow. Sweeping aside the punches puts the alien slightly off balance. The fight becomes almost laughable and the crowd does laugh as the alien gets more frustrated and sloppy until he falls. 

But a hush falls on the crowd when suddenly arrows rain down on the fight, making the long-limbed alien into a pin cushion in seconds. The crowds belatedly begin to boo, upset at the end of their fun, but Steve is louder in his grief, lunging at the fallen alien, too late to shield him. The message is clear. Steve won’t be allowed to play this game and save his opponent. 

Steve’s panting and sweating as he goes back inside the grate, his jaw clenching in anger. The adrenaline is still running through his veins, his chest heaving. Thor’s chest heaves too beneath his tunic, fear and fight and triumph all mixed up. As soon as Thor is released from the chains, he’s grabbing Steve, throwing him back against the wooden slatted wall and then they’re kissing. Thor is brutal, dominating his distressed partner. Their mouths are open and biting, and Thor’s body presses into Steve’s, desperate to get closer than skin. 

But as suddenly as it began, it stops. The adrenaline filtered out of their bloodstreams leaving them drained and weary. Their hands soften but still cling, Steve’s on Thor’s biceps, Thor’s on Steve’s bare neck. They lean on each other, Thor’s chin to Steve’s forehead. 

Finally, Thor is the first to speak. “Come, let me remove that arrow.”

But Steve’s hands tighten momentarily before he releases Thor who kneels to break the shaft of the arrow. 

“It should have been me,” Steve whispers. 

Thor doesn’t respond, more concerned with pulling out the arrow tip from Steve’s calf. It’s a clean wound and by itself would heal quickly. But every injury makes Steve just a little bit weaker, slower, more vulnerable. Gladiators with lots of injuries don’t last very long and everyone in the room knows. All eyes watch the drama of the two Avengers unfold. 

Thor prods Steve to sit down so he can wash and bind the wound. For all Steve’s super-healing, he is not an Asgardian and Thor’s worry is etched on his face. Thor’s hands slow as they move to the next wound on Steve’s thigh, slowly pushing up the edge of Steve’s coarse tunic. Blood is still seeping from the deep wound and soon the hands are as bloody as Steve’s thigh. 

But Thor has to press down hard on the wound, needing to stop the bleeding that trickles out between his clenched fingers. It pushes a grunt from Steve’s bloodless lips. 

“It should have been me to die,” Steve whispers again. 

This time the words force Thor to meet blue eyes and see the truth there. 

“He didn’t deserve to die, none of them. And it was because of me,” Steve continues, mostly talking to himself. “I’m no better, no more deserving…”

“Then you would be dead,” Thor breaks in. 

“And instead he is,” Steve tries. 

Thor’s hands push down harder on the wound in his emotion. “I would not see you die, Steve Rogers.”

The frank admission is enough to keep Steve quiet but the emotions are still visible on his face. Thor concentrates on wrapping Steve’s thigh with a strip from his tunic. Steve helpfully bends his knee but Thor waves away his help in wrapping the wound. 

Steve seems lost in his thoughts, but when Thor finishes and sits back, Steve suddenly looks up almost in surprise. But Thor isn’t moving away, only pushing Steve to lean forward so that he can reach the last wound on Steve’s shoulderblade. In fact now they are even closer, Thor almost pressed to Steve’s side as if in comfort. Steve’s tunic is red with blood, but it’s already stopped bleeding. 

If Steve turns his head just a bit more then their mouths could touch again…

The two are startled as a grey-skinned guard comes in with the food. The metal clank reminds them that the chains are ready for any attack. 

Both Avengers docilely take their food bowls, though Thor goes first to wash the blood off of his hands when the guard has left. The gruel takes only a moment to eat and then the artificial lights are dimming, telling them that it is time to sleep. 

They’re squished into the crate that there is little room to lie on the floor. For a second, Steve looks around uncertain of where to be, until he stiffly turns to lean on his uninjured side. While he’s maneuvering himself though, Thor simply pulls him again. Steve recovers quickly this time, resting his head on his teammate, seeming almost more comfortable being close. Like it’s perfectly simple. 

Steve’s eyes flutter closed, seemingly only too willing to give in to sleep and darkness. Slowly he slumps, letting out all the tension in his body, unable to resist turning his face towards Thor’s neck rather than away. 

But Thor seems less inclined to sleep. His eyes are only half-closed as the fingertips of one hand trail along Steve’s uninjured shoulder, down to the sensitive inner bicep. 

Steve fidgets, his blue eyes popping back open in the darkness. “Thor,” he whispers, breath heavier. 

Thor doesn’t respond, simply gently strokes Steve’s bare soft skin for another moment. Then he takes a deep breath and brings his hand back up to rest against the back of Steve’s neck, squeezing for a second. 

“Forgive me,” Thor says. “Please sleep. Perhaps there will be another time.”

The mention of the future has Steve tensing and brings up his own hand to grip Thor’s tunic as if to keep them together. Thor lets the weight of his hand rest on Steve’s neck, leaving it there as they both try to close their eyes again. 

The next morning is full of fear and anticipation. Neither of the Avengers wants to separate, to stand up, to warm up for the day’s gladiatorial matches. Instead, they stay seated, wrapped up in one another. Thor spends a long time prodding the now closed wound on Steve’s shoulder, though, they both know that it is the still fresh blood on the cloth wrapped around Steve’s thigh that’s most concerning. 

It’s as if they are worried that they won’t see each other again. They finally try to stetch to warm up. There are lingering touches and long glances held between them. They’re not even finished warming up when the first match starts. 

Despite their unmotivated warmup, it’s not a surprising that Steve’s turn comes early this day before his wounds have any further time to heal. What is surprising is that Thor is not chained to the wall with the others. He is still standing beside Steve as the grate begins to lift. They are to fight together. 

Thor looks relieved, almost triumphant as he picks up his sword, but Steve practically stumbles into the arena, still looking shocked. Their opponents are formidable, tall and wearing only loin cloths with two pairs of arms each. 

Thor charges first, looking to engage both combatants as if he can completely protect Steve from the match. But he can’t prevent one of the aliens from peeling off to run at Steve. No doubt the alien believes Steve to be the weak link, easily dispatched. Steve and Thor are quicker, but it might not last with Steve’s injured leg. 

Quickly the alien reverses course. With no fear of Steve attacking his back, the alien rejoins his teammate in pursuing Thor. Which leaves Steve running after, his moves increasingly desperate as he tries to distract, to get in the way. But it’s all too easy for the aliens to disregard him as not a real threat as they fight Thor. 

Despite his strength, the Asgard is being beaten down by the onslaught. He feints a strike, allowing a cut across his chest. In return, Thor gets a good hit to one opponent but he goes down suddenly…

Steve dives, not knowing what else to do, how else to save all of them. He lands hard on top of Thor, just having time to see the bright blue or Thor’s surprised eyes.  
But instead of the fall of the sword, the two prone Avengers are rocked as a huge boom explodes behind them. 

Their opponents are suddenly blown back as more explosions rock the fake ceiling. Pieces of wood and stone begin to fall and there’s screaming and running. And then a pair of red metal boots land with a heavy clunk next to them. 

Ironman helps pull Captain America back to his feet. “You know, I would’ve thought the great Captain America would fare better as a gladiator.”

But Thor can’t help firing back as he stands up. “The Captain refused to kill other captives in the gladiator’s ring.”

There’s no reaction over the Ironman’s faceplate but Steve ignores both of them anyway. He, instead, directs Clint and the Black Widow to release those in the crates and focus weapons on the crowds above. 

But Thor won’t be ignored. He pulls Steve into his side as if still protecting him as they all begin to withdraw. Steve’s leg is bleeding again as he limps along. 

“All of them so far from home,” Steve whispers, distraught but there is nothing to be done. Perhaps Thor will eventually help Asgard to find this place again. 

It seems a long walk back to a spot in the desert where Tony eventually stops and uses his comm to speak to Bruce. And then the world tilts and mists just like it did that day when it all started. 

Out the other side, Steve clings to Thor’s solid form as his stomach rebels. He’s getting himself under control when Tony lifts his faceplate and hands over the painted shield. 

“I think you forgot this. Thor, you’ll have to get your own toy though,” Tony says, pointing to where the hammer still lies in the middle of relatively minor destruction, or at least minor for them. 

Thor laughs and calls Mjolnir to his hand. They follow the others onto the helipad where Thor and Steve are separated and herded to medical. 

*******

Hours later, Steve is in his room in the Avengers Tower having been checked out by the medical personnel. His leg will take another couple of days to fully heal and his shoulder is still red and inflamed. But rest and food should speed healing along. 

But Steve isn’t asleep. He’s lying stiffly on his uninjured side on his very comfortable bed, a frown line visible on his forehead. When the door opens, Steve slowly turns to see Thor striding inside his room. The Asgardian is wearing only pajama pants, his hair mussed as if he simply couldn’t sleep without Steve anymore. New York is never dark anymore and there’s soft yellow light glinting of Thor’s golden skin. His muscles shift in the faint light, rippling like liquid gold. 

They don’t speak. When Thor lifts up one side of the sheets to climb inside, Steve simply turns back on his side. Thor throws one arm over Steve’s body and they curl up together as close as they did in exile. It makes the frown and tension disappear from Steve’s face. 

Thor covers Steve like a blanket, as if trying to get impossibly closer. But when Thor’s hips grind into the supersoldier’s ass, Steve’s blue eyes open wide in surprise. Any protest dies when he’s distracted by Thor’s lips on his neck, however. Steve’s lips part on a heavy exhale as he distractedly leans his head back, exposing more taut white skin to the Asgardian. Thor’s back flexing as he seemingly unconsciously slowly thrusts against his partner and his hand creeps underneath Steve’s tshirt over flexing abs until his huge hand squeezes Steve’s muscular pec. 

Overwhelmed, Steve grabs the brazen hand making a strangled sound. But when Thor stops his movements, Steve looks almost confused as he turns more on his back so they’re face to face. 

“I’ve never, I…I don’t skate around,” Steve finally explains. 

“Do you want to be with me?” Thor asks as if it’s perfectly simple. 

“Yes,” Steve says still wide-eyed. 

Leaning down, Thor lays small short kisses on plush lips, one after another until Steve is pushing up off the bed, pressing for more and deeper. But Thor doesn’t oblige, moving instead to suck bruises down the captain’s strong jaw while coaxing Steve to turn back on his side. 

Thor wastes no more time, pushing at Steve’s pajama bottoms. Steve’s now on board and he takes over stripping himself so Thor can strip off his own pajama pants revealing nothing on underneath. But once naked, Steve is reaching behind him, reaching to Thor for comfort. 

Responding, Thor curls close again, sliding one arm underneath Steve’s neck to hold him close. And then Thor uses his still free hand to lift Steve’s top thigh up. 

“I don’t know how…” Steve starts, trailing off as his body tenses. 

“Shhhh,” Thor whispers laying a kiss on the corner of Steve’s lips. “I will be careful. You are still injured.”

Thor spits in his hand, jacking his cock once, twice, before he thrusts between Steve’s thighs. Steve gasps, body jerking seemingly in shock. Thor thrusts a few times, body curled around his partner, hand now pressing down on Steve’s thigh. 

After a moment intent on his own pleasure, Thor’s thrusts slow, become almost lazy as he begins laying wet sloppy kisses on Steve’s shoulder, cheek, and finally Steve’s lips. The hand under Steve’s neck pulls his face to meet Thor’s lips. They’re both panting into the kiss, sharing breath. 

When Thor pulls away again it’s to spit in his hand again. This time he grabs Steve’s neglected cock, forcing a strangled sound from Steve’s throat. Again, the supersoldier buries his head in the pillow as if it’s too much for him. Thor strokes Steve in time with his thrusts. The pace is slow but each thrust gets harder and harder, their flesh slapping together loudly. 

Steve has to emerge from the pillow to breathe. Thor twists his hand around the mushroom head eliciting a surprisingly high-pitched moan from the other Avenger. Squirming, Steve’s hand searches for a place to land. His hand grabs at Thor’s muscular thigh behind him, then skims down Thor’s arm. Finally, Steve’s hand boldly grips over Thor’s hand on Steve’s cock. 

Steve squeezes Thor’s hand tighter around his cock. Encouraged, Thor moans deep-throated into Steve’s ear, his hot breath causing the Midgardian to shiver. Thrusting faster, Thor starts desperately humping into Steve’s back, soon losing rhythm and control as he tries to get closer, deeper. His hands grab at Steve’s stomach, pulling the other man tighter to him. 

Thor presses his face into the back of Steve’s neck as he groans through his orgasm, grinding against Steve’s ass. Also abandoning his cock, Steve reaches up to grab at Thor’s forearm, clinging as Thor falls apart.

Steve is panting too as Thor finally calms, his broad chest rocking the supersoldier with each breath. Recovering quickly, Thor shifts, making Steve gasps at the wetness between his thighs. The mess is forgotten immediately when Thor’s hand begins to stroke Steve’s cock with the additional lubricant. 

Steve squirms, but Thor is practically on top of him, holding him down as he strokes faster. Steve’s nails are digging into Thor’s arm as his hips begin stuttering, and then Thor nibbles on the shell of the Steve’s ear and the supersoldier can’t hold anything back anymore. He’s shaking and panting in Thor’s arms. 

But before he’s even recovered, Steve pushes Thor off him so they can be face to face, lying on their sides holding one another regardless of the mess between them. 

“So I guess you’re my steady guy?” Steve asks, his voice sounding exhausted. 

Thor cocks his head in that distinct way that says he doesn’t quite understand the words, but comments, “Yes, I am very steady. I have always had excellent aim in many situations such as the time…”

Steve starts to laugh as if releasing the last of his tension. Interrupting Thor’s story, instead they both soon fall quiet, both curled up in each other. Steve maneuvers to rest his head on Thor’s chest as he did so often to sleep in exile. 

But Thor has one last thing to say. “I will be steady for you.”


End file.
